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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533460">Vegans were right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_prettydirty_x/pseuds/x_prettydirty_x'>x_prettydirty_x</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Banter, Bisexuality, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Hipsters, Hucow, Kinky, Lactation, Medical, Milking, Multi, Other, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Unusual Hucow, Verbal Humiliation, personality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_prettydirty_x/pseuds/x_prettydirty_x</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miriam never expected it would happen to her. She took the Pharms test just as an excuse to gain some credits, skip some classes, have a fun edgy story to tell to her hipster brigade. </p><p>But there she was, sitting in nothing but old Superman knickers and mismatched socks in front of a test that pinned her not only as a potential cow, but as full-fledged human diary excellence.</p><p>Miriam bit her lips. Could she really trade her very own freedom for a big monthly allowance, free housing, a great scholarship and a lifetime of free travels?</p><p>Of course she could. But could she hide it? She was surely going to try.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vegans were right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A bit of a short introduction, but I do have longer chapters stashed away :) I will update soon &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was proved. To the horror of millions, science couldn't hide it anymore.</p><p>Vegans had always been right.</p><p>The dairy industry was the main responsible for climate change, its product the root of the recent cancer epidemics and cows were just straight on evil. There was no way that humanity could allow them fuckers to build an army.</p><p>As there were no chances that the human race could overthrow millennia of culinary traditions centred around one single product: milk.</p><p>This is how the Pharm Project was born. It was a simple effective idea, that saw our loved core ingredient stemming from where it naturally would -- the plump tits of a fertile human female -- but scaled up to cover the now-massive industrial needs.</p><p>Thank God for science and global research funding, really.</p><p>Within a few years, a new system was created.</p><p>Private Pharms offered pretty sweet deals, based on the quality and the quantity that the donor's supple mammary glands were able to produce. The benefits ranged from hard, cold cash to college bursaries, medical insurances, and even full-on life-long support if you happened to be blessed with the right set of juicy appendages.</p><p>Confronted with the possibilities, spending a few days a month at your local Pharm facilities for a good squeeze didn't sound so bad.</p><p>And that was exactly Miriam's problem.</p><p>She used to look down on the Pharm Girls she saw walking around campus, their back pushed forward by the weight of their sore, bursting udders. Many did. Cows, that's how she and her snotty friends called them, unironically sipping their Starbucks Lattes while condemning them for surrendering their body to capitalist greed.</p><p>They rolled their eyes when they saw them squirming for the discomfort in their chairs during class, laughed when they ended up drenching the front of their brand tops, told stories about how they mewled when they got fucked in some empty stall or behind a shaggy bush -- increased libido was a pretty well-known side effect after all.</p><p>Miriam never expected it would happen to her. She took the Pharms test just as an excuse to gain some credits, skip some classes, have a fun edgy story to tell to her hipster brigade. She couldn't be a cow. After all, some boys in her class had more tits than her.</p><p>But there she was, in the freezing cold biology lab was her Uni offered its once-per-trimester round of Pharms Test, sitting in nothing but old Superman knickers and mismatched socks in front of a test that pinned her not only as a potential cow, but as full-fledged human diary excellence.</p><p>The bored tester was so overjoyed that immediately took out a full, life-long, benefit contract that bound her for the next six years to BestPharmEvah Corporation.</p><p>"Are you getting something out of this?" she had asked, suspicious.</p><p>He laughed.</p><p>"Of course. I found you, I get some benefit. Not as much as yours, sweety, but I can honestly say you are my golden eggs chicken".</p><p>Miriam raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "I think it was a goose," she said, fiddling with the now scrunched corners of her contract.</p><p>The tester shrugged, with an unapologetic grin. "And you are going to be a cow. Same stuff."</p><p>What a fucker.</p><p>Still, Miriam couldn't believe it.</p><p>"Are you sure?" she asked again.</p><p>The tester smiled.</p><p>"Don't worry, honey. They might be small, but they are perfectly functional" he commented, carelessly pinching one of her nipples with a gloved hand.</p><p>Miriam jolted, retracting with a surprised high-pitched yell.</p><p>His grin lit up with satisfaction.</p><p>"You'll see, soon those little perkies will be begging for a good squeeze".</p><p>Miriam bit her lips. Could she really trade her very own freedom for a big monthly allowance, free housing, a great scholarship and a lifetime of free travels?</p><p>Of course she could.</p><p>The question was another.</p><p>Could she hide it? She was surely going to try.</p>
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